Private Wayward Nightsisters

[Ryn Starfall]

Location: CIS Territoy, Ryloth
Tags: Vanya Aklin | Santeria Decuir



It had been a long time since Ryn found herself on the Twi'lek world of Ryloth and most of that time had been a drug fueled haze. As much as she would have loved to reminisce about those days or at least the little of it she could still remember she was here on business. The Sith hold over Dathomir had ended but now it was in the hands of New Imperial order. Though that isn't what had brought her here exactly, those she came to see could have found all that by the holonet. No this was a matter to do with her coven, her sisters who had left Dathomir the other Coven sold them out to the sith.


Ryn hadn't come alone either to this world it was calling forth Hight Priestess of their coven here as well. This meeting was far to important to leave anyone out that she knew could or might help. It was a reunion of the High Witch Council, Santeria the High Priestess, Vanya Alkin the Listener, and Ryn Starfall War Minister.


Ryn found herself in Vanya Alkin quarter, the door left ajar where Ryn had broken in. It had been considerably hard to contact their wayward sister. In fact, it had taken getting ahold of her niece Cord Starfall to even figure out where Vanya was these days. To Ryn's surprise the woman was living it up among the Twi'leks and the witches of Confederacy. Ryn had heard they had some sort of witch cult among them but didn't venture in learning more then that. Her life was dedicated to the Dark Coven and trying to free their home world from the Sith she had no interest outsider's politics or pretender Covens.


Ryn perused the room for a bit looking at how well her fellow sister had done for herself. It wasn't long though before Ryn's eyes landed on some booze on a counter. It didn't much matter what it was, it looked like a bottle of wine. Ryn found herself popping the cork and pouring to glasses for those she waited for to arrive. Then she herself began drinking straight from the bottle. She found herself not long after with a death stick between her lips taking puffs between swigs of the fancy wine.


She sat down on the day bed in Vanya's space and looked at her watch. She figured by now Vanya would have sensed her presence or the fact someone had broken into her room at the very least. As for Santeria she knew it would be long before the high priestess arrived as well. Though for Santeria she had to be a little more careful give who she was, even after all this time she was well known across the Galaxy.

 

[Santeria Decuir]

Those that had not learned from history were destined to repeat such atrocities, and watch from afar the conjuring of a dead past she had done. Not one finger had been raised to assist another that dared to be called a Witch from the lineage of Dathomir; long had that fire been rested within the belly of the Nightsister. Through the crystal ball she had watched as proclaimed Witches bent over for others - for the Sith - and it made her wretch. For what Witch would ever dare bend, bow, and kneel to another for any reason. The High Priestess could feel nostril being to bunch upward at the reminiscing from the past where she had nearly died to save Dathomir from those who do not deserve such an illustrious world. And now: again Witches turned on one another, selling them out to others. In the olden days if a Witch betrayed her Coven she was killed. Santeria never stayed her hand when it had come to the sacred tenets. Each violation was carried out with full enforcement, and none were pardoned not even a Decuir.

Through the ages Santeria had made it a mission to remain hidden except under specific circumstances and only a few knew where she dwelled. A choice that was made after watching the fall of Dathomir, after seeing the mockery the Witches had become. While there was a modicum of understanding in the ways of diplomacy, of using others for beneficial gain, but there were some situations that were unforgivable. The Nightmother, perched upon her throne of bone within her ship, brooding in the perpetual darkness of a cathedral helped created with her own two hands. Fingers wreathed together slid to and fro, the flesh soft to the touch as though time had no effect on the physical existence. Heather oculars peered down to those hands, hands that had snuffed the life out of so many, hands that assisted other Sisters, hands that once dominated. But the fixation upon small hands drew to a halt when a voice had alerted Santeria that her destination had come.

Ryloth - never had she cared much for this planet to her recollection. "Remain here until I request for you." Exiting the ship, brows furrowed. All senses had been on alert, even those beyond the basic five, and she knew. Lips drew into a dark smile as she senses her proverbial children. No matter through time nor space, the Dark Coven was one and they were all her children. While love was foreign and even the word made her violently ill, there was an attachment to them, a bond, that could never be broken by anyone. Inhaling deeply, spiked heels begun their venture toward where the strongest strings of bonds had been pulled.

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Ryn Starfall | Vanya Aklin